


House

by goodloser



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, Fights, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22801843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodloser/pseuds/goodloser
Summary: Just the Blitzwing pwp I wanted in this world.He almost jumped when he entered the room. The Stunticons were in here, but more importantly, Astrotrain’s massive form in the corner made him impossible to miss. Blitzwing ran over and slapped him before he could react.
Relationships: Astrotrain/Blitzwing
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	House

Blitzwing wasn’t in love with Astrotrain or anything. He was just _circuit-poppingly_ hot and he had a great spike, and as a bigger bot that wasn’t easy for Blitzwing to come by. Plus he was easy to rile up, which made things pretty fun.

He commed Astrotrain sitting up on his berth. _[Where are you? I got a strut to pick with you.]_

The confusion was thick in Astrotrain’s voice. _[Huh? Why?]_

_[You took my high-grade, you slagging idiot.]_

_[No I didn’t.]_

_[That’s what Ravage said, and next time I see you you’re_ gettin’ _it.]_

Astrotrain snorted back over the line and Blitzwing switched his communicator off. He pushed himself off the berth and stood with heavy thuds — tanks weren’t light — stretching his wings with a groan. He hadn’t flown in a while since he was currently grounded. Literally. Apparently his last pass at their illustrious leader had ticked him off and now he was on cleaning duty, great.

So, to head to the rec room. Frenzy and Rumble were disappointingly away on a mission, but maybe he’d find someone like with Skywarp to hang out with. He made his way there at a leisurely pace, barely passing a silent Soundwave in the corridors.

He almost jumped when he entered the room. The Stunticons were in here, but more importantly, Astrotrain’s massive form in the corner made him impossible to miss. Blitzwing ran over and slapped him before he could react.

Astrotrain rubbed the spot. “Scrap — you idiot! That stings like the Pits.”

“Did you drink it already, you oath?!”

“It’s oaf, stupid. And I didn’t take it. Ravage’s probably messin’ with you.”

“No way. I don’t trust you after the _last_ time.”

“You were being an afthead and I wanted seconds.”

“It’s always excuses with you, ain’t it?” Blitzwing put his fists up. “Why ain’t we let our fists do the talkin’?”

Astrotrain snorted again and turned back to his console. Blitzwing could see he was playing a primitive Earth game featuring two white bars and a circle. He currently had a score of 200+. Blitzwing watched it for a moment, mesmerised (it was kinda like Earth football). Then he punched the screen in. It sparkled with flash.

Astrotrain stood up to his full height and grabbed the back of Blitzwing’s helm and pushed his face into it like a turbofox that needed training. He sounded pissed off now. “You fraggin’ _idiot._ You think Soundwave’s gonna like that? Megatron? I sure as slag ain’t takin’ the blame for it. Plus you made me lose my high score.”

Being so easily manhandled like that was a turn-on, and Blitzwing spun his fans. He kicked one of Astrotrain’s shins. Astrotrain fell onto the sofa he’d been sitting on. The Stunticons had caught wind of what was going on, and were now chanting, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Astrotrain snarled and grabbed Blitzwing’s more sensitive wings and pulled hard. Blitzwing yelped, and pulled his sword from his subspace. “Shouldn’t’ve stolen from me than, you fraggin’ scrapheap. I’m gonna send you crawlin’ back to Hook.”

“If you break anymore stuff in here Megatron’s gonna kick your plates.”

“Do I look like that matters to me?” And to be honest, fighting with Megatron might be kinda fun, but not the endgame here. He lifted his sword high.

He was too slow on purpose, exposing his midsection, and Astrotrain landed a bunch to his tanks. It dented the armour and Blitzwing grit his teeth to prevent himself from crying out in the fresh pain. He didn’t drop his sword, though, and swung it at Astrotrain’s chest. ‘Train raised his arm and the blade cut an inch into his heavier, spacefaring armour. He hissed.

“Motormaster, if you don’t pull me off, I am gonna _beat_ him to death.”

Motormaster simply said, “Nice.”

Astrotrain grabbed another fistful of wing and yanked Blitzwing down to him. Blitzwing pulled him off, and then moved into a straddle in Astrotrain’s lap, pushing his chest point straight into Astrotrain’s face.

“... Did you make up some excuse just to get me to frag you?”

Blitzwing smirked, although Astrotrain could barely see it. “What does it look like, you bolthead?”

“You piece of scrap. You broke that console ‘cuz you’re _runnin’ high?”_ Astrotrain grabbed Blitzwing’s gun and pulled him over. Now Blitzwing’s back was to the couch and Astrotrain leered over him. “I’m gonna frag you into next week.”

Blitzwing grinned up at him. Now his intentions had perhaps been revealed, he made no attempt to hide his whining fans. He lifted his legs and pushed his plate flush to Astrotrain’s. The Stunticons had stopped cheering now. Wildrider said, “Are they fraggin’? Hey, are you two fraggin’?”

Astrotrain ignored him. Motormaster made a face and stood up. How Astrotrain ‘made love’ was _not_ something he needed to know, and the Stunticons followed him shortly, though not before Wildrider asking Astrotrain if he could watch.

Astrotrain retracted his plating and pressurised his spike. “You are a stupid little slag.” He ran a digit around Blitzwing’s own plating. It was hot to the touch. It retracted soon enough, and soon Astrotrain was pushing two fingers into Blitzwing’s waiting valve, his other hand on his hips to steady him.

“Put it in already, Astrobrain,” Blitzwing growled.

“Idiot. That insult sucks.”

Astrotrain added a third finger. He scissored them carefully, because unlike Blitzwing, he didn’t actually _enjoy_ hurting people. Blitzwing was stretching up nicely beneath him.

He gave his spike a few pumps. Frag, he hated the guy, but there was something kinda hot about him getting into fights just to get some action. Horny son of a glitch. He lined himself up with Blitzwing, and pushed his way in slowly.

Blitzwing was tight — with Astrotrain, _everyone_ was tight — and he tried not to flutter his optics in pleasure. He gave shallow, slow thrusts, getting more of his spike in every time. Blitzwing groaned at some point, and tried to buck down, but Astrotrain held him still by the waist.

Too quickly for his liking, he was all the way in and his crotch bumped the rim of Blitzwing’s valve. Blitzwing moaned low and arched his back. “Frag — that’s it. Go faster.” His visor flickered.

“No. You’re bein’ a good whore and takin’ it.”

He scowled. “Frag you.”

“That’s what you were before the war, ain’tcha? A whore. No wonder you take spike so good.”

He shuddered, at that part Astrotrain pulling himself back almost all the way out before thrusting back in. He was equally as slow as he was entering and it was a maddening feeling. Blitzwing focused on the pressure (and it was a lot — Astrotrain seemed to get bigger every time) — but his mind went blank when Astrotrain hit his ceiling node. He definitely moaned again but could barely hear it.

Astrotrain grunted and Blitzwing drank the noise up like the freshest high-grade. He twisted his head to the side, and mumbled, “Talk more. You’re hot.”

“Frag. Fine.” Astrotrain’s brain scrambled for topics. “You feel tight as slag. Tight and hot. You’re squeezin’ my spike like a grade-A buy from Kaon.”

Blitzwing shuddered and moaned again. Astrotrain cocked his head; his optics were dark with both lust and amusement. Blitzwing seemed to like it — he was definitely getting teased about it later. 

Astrotrain was increasing his pace, although not by much. He was still putting all his effort into long strokes. It was a luxurious feeling. It was equally luxurious seeing Blitzwing come undone underneath him until the bot was practically _begging._

Astrotrain tweaked the edges of Blitzwing’s wings, and then the vents on his crotchplate. What a lewd place to put them — Primus must’ve been feeling frisky when he made him. He scraped his fingers against them; they were too big to slide in between them.

Blitzwing overloaded then. His mouth hung open in a silent shout. His frame shook. His hands, once clutching the sofa, were now clenching and unclenching. His trembling almost set Astrotrain off, but he managed to hold on for a few more thrusts before pushing all the way in one last time and coming.

Blitzwing writhed underneath him. His back was arched so far up it was off the sofa — it must be a big one. Astrotrain didn’t want to crush him, and propped himself up the sofa with his arms planted firmly each side of Blitzwing’s head. His powerful engine vibrated Blitzwing’s chest; when he’d overloaded, it was probably with a rev so loud that half the base had heard it.

He waited for his fans to kick it down a notch. Blitzwing looked like he’d passed out. It was obvious from their keening that his fans ran hotter than Astrotrain's. 

His visor came back online and he grinned. There was a smear of drool at the side of his mouth. Astrotrain pulled himself out. Blitzwing groaned again at that.

“‘S fun,” Blitzwing slurred.

“There. You happy now?”

“Sure thing.”

“Great. I’m dobbin’ on you to Soundwave.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? He knew I was gonna do it before even I did.”

Astrotrain transformed back his modesty plating and fetched a cloth from his subspace for Blitzwing to wipe up with. “You are one dumb Con.”

“My plan worked, so how slaggin’ dumb am I _really?”_

“So… you think gettin’ called a buybot’s hot?”

Blitzwing’s smile dropped from his face like an osmium weight. “I — that ain’t —”

Astrotrain lifted his hand to his helm and activated his communicator. “Rumble, Frenzy, y’know Blitzy gets off on bein’ treated like a whore?”

His mouth hung open in disbelief.

Later that day, Soundwave came along with a hose and watered down the sofa to Motormaster’s relief.


End file.
